Regrets And Laments
by annavale23
Summary: An AU in which Ward returns to the team to take down Whitehall. Skye tells Ward that they don't belong together, but will she regret these words when she realises that they might be the last ones she ever says to him? A four shot. Please read and review! x [Now Complete]
1. Chapter 1: Breaking Apart Hurts

**Hello! Yet another fic! But I actually have this one all written, so the updates should be regular. It's only going to be four parts long.**

**This is going to be a pretty sad fic :'(**

**(It's told in Skye's person).**

**It's an AU after season one, in which Ward has come back to the team. I wrote it awhile back, but I've adjusted it, and here it is! This fic will probably only be a two shot, a three shot at the most, but I would appreciate some feedback. So maybe you could all review?**

* * *

**ONE: Breaking Apart Hurts (Even When It Shouldn't).**

I feel like I'm breaking.

My heart feels like someone's ripped it in two, my body feels worn and torn, like I'm only being held together by thin, gossamer threads that could easily snap in half, breaking me like a glass sculpture.

I curl up on my bed, blinking my tears back furiously. I will not get upset over him! He does not deserve my tears. Not after what he did.

Currently, Simmons is in the medical bay, working furiously over Ward. Only 6 hours ago, we had attacked a HYDRA cell to find out that they were ready for us. Trip had been shot in the chest, May was unconscious on the floor, her head bleeding profusely, Hunter and Bobbi were tied up, beaten up badly, and my father was gagged in the corner, his wide open eyes realising he could nothing to save his daughter's surrogate family.

And me? I was standing there, frozen as Whitehall (because yes, the man who had killed my mother was there) pointed a gun at my boss's chest, about to blow a huge hole in it that Coulson would not come back from this time. I was weak, too weak to even think about stopping that gun from killing Coulson. My mind was stuck, and all I could hear was a roaring in my ears, and I couldn't make my hands or my feet move. All I could do was watch.

Whitehall had laughed manically

"Weak, weak, weak!" He had gloated, his finger twitching in the trigger. A bead of sweat rolled down Coulson's forehead, and my eyes moved frantically, darting from the gun to Coulson, back and forth, back and forth.

Whitehall didn't hesitate for long. He pointed the loaded gun at Coulson.

"5 bullets." He had said simply to Coulson. "Survive that."

"You won't succeed in winning!" Coulson had spat back. Whitehall had shrugged, and then he had pulled the trigger.

And someone had simply stepped out in front of it.

They had came out of the shadows as Whitehall laughed and walked calmly into the path of the bullet, taking it for Coulson. He had been shot multiple times in the chest (Whitehall wanted to make sure Coulson didn't survive) and had gone down, blood everywhere, eyes closed, face strangely serene.

And that's when I had realised that the man was none other than Grant Ward.

* * *

There's a knock at my door, and I turn my back to it, facing the wall. The door opens and whoever's there walks in calmly and pulls up a chair. They watch me for a moment before speaking.

"Skye." My father's voice says gently. We had been reunited only 3 days previous, when he had joined our forces and he had told me exactly what Whitehall had done to my mother, and why. "Skye, look at me. Please."

"Go away." My voice is muffled. I can't help it as tears start to flow from my eyes, rolling down over my cheeks. Because it's my fault that Ward got shot, because if I hadn't rejected him, he wouldn't have agreed to that risky mission. And then he wouldn't have been shot.

"Skye, it is not your fault that he got shot." My father, Cal, points out gently, guessing my thoughts exactly. Not for the first time, I wondered if he had telepathic abilities. "He chose to step in front of that bullet for Director Coulson, remember?"

"Yeah, but now he might die." I turn around to face him, sitting up slowly, wiping at my eyes. I sniff, swallowing. "And I never got to-" I cut myself off before I say something really stupid. All I can think about is when I kissed him, and then told him that we couldn't ever get involved. Because we were toxic together. And how accepting he was, because he was used to rejection. And now he might die, never knowing that the real reason we can't be together is because of me, not him. Because I couldn't get it out of my head that he was HYDRA.

My father takes a deep breath, clearing his throat.

"The last words I ever said to your mother were: 'Really? That dress?'" He tells me in a quiet voice, his eyes looking haunted and they are filled with an intense sadness that I can't even begin to imagine. "Going back, I wish I had said something else, or at least told her that she was beautiful no matter what dress she wore. Because she was the most beautiful, pure and good thing I had ever had in my life, besides you. And she died, never knowing how much I really loved her." My father wipes at his eyes, before dropping his hand to my shoulder, the heavy weight of it strangely comforting.

"I think she did." I say softly, seeing a solitary tear fall from his eye. "I'm sure she did."

"She was probably cursing me with every one of her last breaths." My father says mournfully. "And I deserve every one." He glances up at me, his eyes burning into mine. "So instead of hiding up in here, you should go and see if he's okay."

"What if he's not?" My voice is a whisper in the air.

"Then he's not." My father shrugs. "But you'll never find out anything while you're holed up in here, will you?"

* * *

I enter the medical bay slowly, my feet quiet against the linoleum floor. It's empty except for Simmons and him, the others deciding to relax upstairs in the living room area.

Simmons looks up from the charts she's watching next to his bed, a clipboard in her hand. She flips the papers back onto the clipboard.

"Hey, Skye." She says gently.

"Is he alive?" I ask, suddenly. Simmons nods, her eyes looking grave.

"But he hasn't woken up yet." She says quietly. "The bullets came very close to killing him, Skye. Very close."

"Will he ever wake up?" I have to ask, hating how my voice trembles on 'wake up'. Simmons bites her lower lip, chewing on it for a few moments.

"I don't know." She replies, her tone hushed. "Only time will tell. I managed to save his life, but we won't know if he's okay until he wakes up."

"Oh." Simmons starts to walk out of the room. She glances at me from the doorway. "Stay strong." She whispers before striding out, her heels clicking on the floor, clipboard still in hand.

My feet start to walk on their own, of their own volition, moving one in front of the other until I come to his hospital bed. He's lying there, his eyes closed (of course) and his face looks surprisingly peaceful. I pull up a chair, the legs scraping on the floor. I sit down in it and gaze at his face.

"So, you were shot." I start, my voice rusty. "Five times. Two in your stomach, two in the chest and one in the shoulder." I clear my throat. "Jemma managed to patch you up quite well, but you need to wake up now. Or else, her work was for nothing."

Grant remain silent, not moving. He's breathing, but it's faint, so his chest is barely moving. I rub at my eyes, gulping back any tears that threaten to spill out. _I will not cry over Grant Ward. Yes, he may of saved Coulson, but he still used me for Garrett_. I tell myself firmly. A small part of my mind knows I'm lying, but it doesn't point it out to me to spare me from completely losing it.

Gently, I stroke his hair back from his face, feeling as if my soul's about to snap right in two. I didn't realise how much I need Grant Ward in my life until now, even if he's am ex traitor. Even if he's messed up. I need him, like I need oxygen. He's part of my life now, and I'm not ready to cut him out.

"I didn't mean it, you know." I admit, my lips twitching up into a sad half smile. "We're not toxic. I am. You might be a HYDRA traitor, but I'm the alien girl who's basically killed so many people just by being born." I close my eyes briefly, my eyelashes scraping my cheekbones. A single crystal tear rolls down my cheek and splashes on to the bed.

"Maybe I should just leave you guys." I continue, my voice gasping and hoarse. "But I can't, not now that I've actually found my father. Not until you wake up." I try to smile through my tears. "So wake up soon, Grant. Okay?"


	2. Chapter 2: You're Still Here

**Another sad chapter, still following on from the last one. I don't know if you guys will see the emotion in this chapter, but I tried!**

**Thanks so much for all the follows and favourites and the 2 reviews! :)**

**Anyway, I hope you like it, and please tell me how I did in a review at the end.**

* * *

**TWO: You're Still Here (Even When You're Not)**

Every night, I dream you're still here. Like the ghost at my side, you're so perfectly clear to me, but you're always ever so lightly out of reach.

But you're the only person I can talk to, so I resign myself to talking to my imagination in the form of you.

"Skye, don't cry." He tells me softly as we sit with our backs to the wall of my wall. I don't reply, and just let the tears roll down my face as I stare at the tablet screen in front of me, where I can see your body lying still in the lab. Still. Cold. Motionless.

"Don't cry." He repeats. His arm extends out ever so slightly, and his fingertips are inches away from my arm when he stops. Because he can't touch me. Because he's not real.

"I want you." I murmur, my fingers grazing the screen gently.

"I can't be there with you, Skye." He tells me gently.

"But I still haven't told you the truth." A teat splashes onto the screen.

"I know the truth."

"You can't say that." I snap at him, my hand curled into a fist. I go to punch the wall next to me, but I stop myself before my fist hits his chest. I glance back at the screen. "You break so easily." I whisper. "Like a piece of glass."

"I chose to do it." He reminds me softly. "You didn't force me to."

"It's my fault." I close my eyes, the tears running unbidden down my face.

* * *

"You still haven't woken up." I say.

"I know." He replies simply.

"Will you?" I have to ask.

"I don't know." He closes his eyes.

* * *

"I tried to protect you." I say, looking at my tablet screen. "By telling you that I didn't want to be with you. But instead it drove you to here."

"I didn't want to be protected." He says quietly.

"I wanted to protect you." I continue. "And now, all I want is to take those words away."

"I'm fighting to hold on." He tells me confidently. "I'm clinging to just one more day. Just to see you."

"I don't want one more day. I don't want one more month, or year. I want forever."

* * *

"If I could swap places-" I start, talking at my tablet screen one more time, but he interrupts me.

"I wouldn't let you."

"If you would just open your eyes..." My voice hitches, and I swallow back my tears. "It might be selfish, but I can't let you fade away from me. I need you."

* * *

"I'm crying again." I tell him, leaning my head back against the wall.

"I can see." He says, glancing at me. His hand twitches as he resists the urge to touch me. Because he can't.

"I want you to hold me." I whisper. "Just to hold me. To keep me together. Before I break into a thousand million pieces."

"I can't." His voice aches with regret.

"I know." My eyes go back to my tablet screen, which still shows the camera from the lab. "Please wake up." My vision blurs with unshed tears. "I need you to catch me when I fall. And I'm falling fast. Are you going to catch me?"

* * *

"Only with you, am I really living." I tell the motionless body shown on my tablet screen.

"All the missing pieces of my heart, they finally collide, but only when I'm with you."

"Skye..." He trails off. I hate that I sound so pathetic, but I can't stop it. Because without you, I feel broke, like I'm half of a whole.

Because without you, I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

And I had no idea that you were so important to me until now.

"You have to nearly die for me to realise that I love you?" I sniff, trying to laugh but instead it sounds like I'm twisting a screwdriver in a pencil sharpener. "Classy. Real classy."

* * *

"Memories won't be enough." I whisper. "I can't feel you slip away from me. Not with all I have left to say unsaid."

"I can hear you." He says.

"But I need you to reply." My voice, like my heart, breaks into two.

"I'm fighting to hold on. I'm fighting for you." He tells me.

"You're not fighting hard enough."

* * *

"I should hate you." I say. "But I can't."

* * *

I could touch you, but it's not you. The real you is ever so slightly out of reach, because the real you isn't here right now. This is only your body.

"Please come back. A dream isn't enough."

"I'm never letting go of you. I want you back. I need to tell you... how I really feel."

"I'm never letting go of you." He replies. But it's not the one I want.

"I just want you to wake up."

* * *

Heartbreak hurts.

I know that now.

I'm barely breathing as I watch your motionless body. I want to touch your face, but I don't. You break too easily. And I don't want to hurt you even more than I already have.

* * *

"I can't take this anymore!" I scream at him. "Why won't you wake up? Why won't you come back? Why are you going to leave me?" I fall to the floor, crying like a child. "Why?"

"I don't know." He says simply. "I don't know."

* * *

"I think I love you."

"I think I love you."

"I think I love you."

How many times will I have to say it before you wake up? Because I'll say it a million times, even until my tongue and lips bleed, if you'll just open your eyes.

"I think I love you. Why can't you wake up to hear me?"

* * *

"I'd take one more day with you now. Just one more day." I plead.

"I'm trying."

"Not hard enough."

* * *

"I'd try to be where you are, so you would wake up." I touch the screen with shaking fingertips. The bright light from the screen is the only light in the room. It casts over my face. "Anything to stop you slipping away from me." My cheeks are wet. Tears hit the screen.

"Skye, don't cry." He says softly.

"I can't stop." I scrub at my red lidded eyes. "I can't stop, not until you wake up."

He gives me a soulful look, his dark eyes telling me the thing I can't stand to hear.

_You're not going to wake up._

* * *

And when I awake, you're not here anymore. You've disappeared into the shadows, with all I hold dear with you. You've faded away from me like the ghost you were, and now I'm all alone.

Because when I awake, you're not here. Because you were never here to begin with. You were always just a dream.

I glance down at the tablet screen.

He's still lying there.

"Don't make me dream anymore. Don't slip away from me. Just come back to me." My fingertips slide off the screen as I let the single tear drop down my cheek and splash on the screen.

"Grant."


	3. Chapter 3: I'm Always Alone

**So, this is a short chapter. But the next one is longer, and it's also the last.**

**Thank you for all the reviews, follows and favourites so far. Even though it's short, I hope you all like it still!**

**The final chapter will be up in a few days. **

**I hope you enjoy the penultimate chapter, and please review at the end! :)**

* * *

**THREE: I'm Always Alone (Even When I'm Surrounded)**

I'm alone again.

Just like after I ran away from St Agnes, I'm alone. But unlike then, I'm surrounded by people.

But they're not the person I want more than anything in the world.

* * *

Coulson asks me how I am. He pats me on the back. He gives me a drink of tea.

It goes cold on the side.

I tell him I'm okay. He believes me.

I spend the rest of the day crying in my bunk.

* * *

May teaches me hate fu.

I do the movements.

I'm still not there.

She asks me if I want to talk.

I tell her I'm fine.

She believes me.

I cry at his bedside, silently with my face turned away from the cameras.

* * *

Cal tells me about my mother. How when she entered a room, the atmosphere would brighten, and how she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

I don't react.

All his story makes me think about is him.

He asks me if I have any questions. I thank him for the story, and then I politely excuse myself.

In the hallway outside, my chest heaves with the effort of keeping my tears quiet.

* * *

Simmons makes me chamomile tea.

It goes cold.

She tells me how he's doing.

I keep still.

She asks whether I want any medication, to help me sleep.

I tell her no.

* * *

Fitz makes monkey jokes.

I don't crack a smile.

* * *

"I'm never letting go of you." I tell him as I sit at his bedside. "So you can't leave me. Because I won't let you. Got that?"

He doesn't reply.

He never replies.

* * *

I know that they're all worried for me. I get thinner. My eyes look like they've been punched. I don't care.

"I can't go until you wake up."

* * *

"Skye, please. He'll wake up. Please sleep!" Coulson tries to persuade me to leave his bedside.

"I can't. Not until he wakes up." I respond resolutely.

* * *

"Skye?" Cal tries next.

"No."

"But-"

"You weren't there for me for all my life. You don't get to tell me what to do." My tone is cruel, and Cal walks away, hurt playing out in his eyes.

I stare at his closed eyes.

"You looked hurt when I told you we were toxic." I murmur.

* * *

"I keep dreaming that you're here." I murmur. "But then I awake and you're still asleep. Wake up, Grant. I want to play battleship."

"This is my fault. I'm sorry, Grant."

"It's never your fault." I can almost imagine him telling me.

But his lips never move to form the words.

* * *

When he actually wakes up, I'm asleep in my bunk after Simmons sedated me. But before I can rush into the lab to see him, Coulson stops me.

"I wouldn't go in there, Skye." He tells me, his eyes sad.

"Why?" My heart is beating like the fluttering of a hummingbird's wings. I want to see him. I have to see him.

"Skye..." Coulson's eyes are so deeply sad. He reaches out one hand and squeezes my shoulder.

"He doesn't remember you."

* * *

**Next Chapter's The Last One! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Out Of Reach

**So, here we are. The last chapter, and my personal favourite. I hope you guys like it, and if you do, maybe leave me a review?**

* * *

**FOUR: Out Of Reach (Even When You're Right There)**

He's still ever so slightly out of reach.

It turns out that the trauma caused by the bullets wiped out a good portion of Grant's memories. The last thing he can remember is dated around 5 years previous. I watch him through the one way glass as Coulson tells him we know about his HYDRA affiliations, and that Garrett's dead. My eyes are dry.

He doesn't remember me.

He doesn't know me.

* * *

"Skye." May taps my shoulder. "Go in."

"I don't want to." I cross my arms and start to walk away slowly.

"Bullshit." May catches up with me easily. The Oriental's woman's eyes are hard. "You sat at his bedside constantly, Skye. Go in there. Maybe you'll trigger his memories."

"Or maybe I won't!" I argue back. "May, I don't want to go through that. Seeing him, hearing his voice... and then seeing the confusion in his eyes when he sees me and has no idea who I am..." My voice threatens to crack; tears threaten to spill from my eyes as they gather at my lashes. "I can't do that to myself. Understand?"

"I understand." May says quietly as I stride away from her, my tears now flowing freely. He woke up. He finally woke up!

But the Grant Ward inside that room is not my Grant Ward. He's a man who still thinks he works for Garrett. Who still thinks he's HYDRA. Who hasn't met me yet. Who hasn't made me fall in love with him.

* * *

Coulson has Grant moved to a different location, so he can recover. I hack his report files and find out that his body is recovering nicely, but he'll never be able to run undercover missions like he used to. In fact, he'll probably never be able to be a field agent ever again.

I bury myself into my work. Together, Cal and I hunt down the Diviners and destroy the ones we find as I decide that I don't want any powers I'm apparently owed, even though Cal thinks I'm being stupid. But it's my decision. Not his. And I don't want powers. Because they can't give me the one thing I want more than anything in the world.

* * *

I stand in front of the mirror, a pair of scissors in my hands.

I cut myself bangs.

They look terrible, all messy and uneven and jagged.

Just like my heart.

Instead of fixing them, I keep them as they are. Why fix what's already broken?

* * *

After Cal and I have done our mission, I take an undercover mission for SHIELD, posing as an art teacher. Cal goes his own way, promising to keep in contact.

One night, I'm sitting in study, grading some pictures and I happen to see something out of my study window. I get to my feet and hope the window, sticking my head out of it. I crane my head up, and I glance up at the starry sky and I see the flashing glimmer of a shooting star. I close my eyes, letting the wind blow softly through my hair, probably tangling it all up.

_I could really use a wish right now..._ I think to myself. _Make me stop thinking of him._

The air is cold against my skin, and it numbs it so I don't feel anything as a tear rolls down from my eye and drops onto the ground below.

_I miss you_. I think to myself, and then I climb back into my study, shake my head and return to my grading.

* * *

A month goes past. I arrest the man I was undercover for, and return to SHIELD. Jemma and Fitz are together, finally, and they're thinking of getting married. I agree to be Jemma's maid of honour, and Fitz asks me to pick out the wedding rings. I agree, and try to ignore the sadness that creeps over my soul when I see the red punch bag in the bus.

* * *

Fitzsimmons's wedding arrives.

I attend alone.

* * *

"Oh, sorry." I apologise, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment as I hit into someone. I fall to the ground, and I bet my dress gets dirty.

_Crap._ Just what I need before the wedding.

"No, it was my fault." A hauntingly familiar voice says. I glance up, my bangs shadowing my eyes, and I see him.

Grant.

He stands tall, in a suit, his hair floppy. His eyes are dark, and mostly he is alive.

"I wasn't looking where I was going." He continues, holding out a hand. I takes me moment to realise it's to help me up. I notice that a dog sits patiently at his side. The dog looks like it's a golden Labrador, it's brown eyes kind.

I accept the hand and let him haul me to my feet. His skin against mine convinces me that this is him. Grant. _My_ Grant.

But he's not anymore. He doesn't remember me.

"No, I was in a rush." I try to smile, fighting back my tears.

"Are you a friend of the bride?" He asks me, staring at me, frowning slightly.

"What, Jemma? Yeah." I nod, smoothing down my dress.

"I'm a friend of the groom." He explains.

"Fitz invited you?" I blurt out, unable to bite the words back. Grant's eyes blink at me.

"Oh, you know Leo too?" He smiles slightly.

"Where did you meet Leo?" Calling Fitz by his first name feels wrong, but I need to know how Grant thinks they know each other.

"Oh, we used to work together." Grant tells me. "I have to admit, I lost my memory a while back."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I lost around 5 years." He nods. "So I actually dot remember a lot of Leo and my friendship. I'm Grant, by the way." He introduces himself suddenly.

"Skye." I force my lips to smile.

"Skye." He repeats. "I feel like I should know you." Grant frowns, and I start to panic. "Do I know you?"

"No, sorry." I lie quickly. "I must have one of those faces."

"Skye..." He murmurs again, frowning still. "You sure I don't know you?" He asks.

"Nope."

"Well, I shouldn't keep you anymore." His face clears. "Maybe I'll see you later..." Grants dark eyes hold mine for one long, beautiful moment. "Skye."

* * *

"How come you didn't tell me he was coming?" I march into Fitz's room. Fitz stands in front of the mirror, with Coulson tying on the tie around his neck.

"Who?" Fitz asks mildly, seemingly unfazed by my attitude.

"You know who." I snap, unable to say his name.

"Oh, Grant?" Fitz raises his eyebrows at me in the mirror. "He's still my friend, Skye. Unlike you, I actually tried to get him to remember me."

"Even though he tried to kill you." I stare at him. Fitz shrugs.

"He's still my friend, Skye. But he can't actually remember our friendship, so we started again. Maybe you could try it." He suggests. I ignore him.

"What's with the dog?" I ask curiously, folding my arms across my chest. Coulson shoots me a look, his eyes asking me how I'm doing. I smile thinly at him.

"That's his dog. Goes everywhere with him. His therapist calls her his coping mechanism." For explains, adjusting his collar nervously. I feel bad, since I'm interrogating Fitz on his wedding day. But I have to find out about Grant. Especially since I stopped reading his file, in an attempt to move on. An attempt that failed.

"What's her name?" I ask, my final question before I go to check on Jemma.

Fitz grins at me through the mirror.

"Her name's Skye." He says.

* * *

_So he remembers me?_ I wonder at the reception, when I'm sitting on my own, on my phone, in a corner. Fitz told me that Grant can't remember why he has an attachment to the name 'Skye', but he does remember a brush of brown eyes. So maybe if I hung out with him, he'd remember me!

_But no!_ I interrupt myself._ I can't do that to myself, because what if he doesn't remember? Leave it alone, Skye._

"This seat taken?" A voice asks me. I glance up from my phone to see Grant standing there, his dog - Skye - at his side.

"No." I admit reluctantly. He sits down next to me, and sighs.

"Leo seems happy." He comments.

"Yeah, Jemma makes him happy." I respond, glancing over at the happy couple. I smile wistfully.

"Are you sure I don't know you?" Grant persists. I hesitate. Do I tell him? "It's just that, my dog's called Skye," He strokes the dog's head. "Because I can't get that name out of my head. So do I know you?"

"You might of." My voice is small. "Once upon a time."

"Could I get to know you?" Grant asks tentatively. I glance up at him, noting that his hand is still on the dog, his fingers buried into the animal's fur.

"Do you want to know me?" I ask him, my voice still quiet.

"Yeah." He admits.

I sit up, and turn my body to face him, making a decision that would change my life forever.

"Hi." I smile, holding out a hand. "I'm Skye."

"Hello, Skye." He smiles back, taking my hand. With one movement, he tugs me to my feet, and tells the dog to stay put as he leads me onto the dancefloor. "I'm Grant."

* * *

_**2 years later.**_

"For god's sake, Skye!" I yell at the dog, running a hand through my hair in exasperation. "Why must you chew up every one of my shoes?"

"She's sorry." Grant smiles at me, kissing me quickly. I kiss him back, still in denial that he's mine again. After Fitzsimmons's wedding, Grant and I started hanging out, even though it was really painful for me. We started dating, and I started to fall in love with this version of Grant Ward. We moved in together 5 months ago, and I'm happy again.

"I know." I sigh. "But it still doesn't change the fact that I have no shoes."

Skye the dog drags my last shoe into her den, grinning doggishly as she does so.

"We'll buy you some more. And maybe you should put them on a higher shelf." Grant suggests.

"Maybe." I turn around, and run a hand over my eyes.

"Skye?" Grant asks me hesitantly. I glance at him.

"What?"

"Wanna get married?" He asks me, smiling nervously.

* * *

I never did get my version of Grant Ward back. He died on that day that he saved Coulson's life, never knowing how I really felt about him.

But this version of Grant Ward did. He always knew how much I loved him, and I always knew how much he loved me. I retired from SHIELD active duty after he proposed, and stared teaching computer hacking at the new SHIELD Academy. Grant kept up with his new job of being a mission advisor back at SHIELD HQ, since he couldn't actually go on missions anymore. We got married a year after he proposed, and we kept Skye around... and spent a fortune on shoes.

Fitzsimmons went on to have 3 kids, all of which we were the godparents to. Although we never had kids, that was enough for us. They also retired form field work, as taught science at the Academy.

Coulson and May dated after a night at Fitzsimmons's wedding, and later married, and adopted me as their daughter. So my name was Skye May-Coulson Ward. Three surnames when I once had none.

Cal gave his blessing towards the adoption, knowing Coulson could be there when he couldn't. Although he popped up ever so often, Cal mainly went his own way. When Whitehall was found dead, brutally mutilated, I knew we had Cal to thank.

* * *

I never get over my old Grant Ward.

But I never break over this Grant Ward.

He is always in reach. No matter where I am.

My heart is whole again.

* * *

**Thanks to every one who followed, favourited and reviewed! :) I hope you liked the ending.**


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